BikeSnobNYC's Guide to Cyclocross

November 4, 2011

Cyclocross. Do it wrong, and it'll be the coldest, muddiest, most painful hour of your life. Do it right, and it'll be the coldest, muddiest, most painful hour of your life. It'll also be the most fun you'll have on your bike all year. Cold, mud, and pain are non-negotiable. If you're looking to try 'cross, here's a guide so you'll know what to expect. —BikeSnobNYC

Not too long ago, if you wanted an off-the-rack cyclocross bike, your options were limited to just a few offerings from a handful of manufacturers. Now, cyclocross is growing faster than Dave Zabriskie's off-season facial hair, which means pretty much every company is selling a variety of cyclocross bikes, including do-everything steel models and carbon pro-race replicas.

This is good because it means more choices for you, but it's bad because it means that by the time you've finished comparing component specs and bottom-bracket heights and frame weights and price tags and all the rest of it, cyclocross season will be over and custody of the park where they hold your local races will return to the picnickers. And while it may be fun to use picnic baskets as barriers, nobody appreciates a Sidi in their bologna sandwich.

The most important thing to keep in mind when buying a cyclocross bike is that they all look, weigh, and ride pretty much the same when they're covered in mud.

In the beginning you're probably going to fall down a lot, so it's always a good idea to find a local cyclocross clinic so that you can get some of the falling out of the way beforehand. Check with your local cycling club or on your favorite social networking site (hello, Myspace!) to see if any masochists are holding any practice sessions in your area. If they are, you'll get to experience what it's like to practice lifting your bike over a limbo bar with a bunch of people in Lycra while neighborhood residents out walking their dogs look on in horror and argue about whether or not they should call the police.

Or, if you're the only aspiring cyclocrosser in your town, you may be forced to watch instructional YouTube videos and then copy them. This is pretty much what millions of teenagers did after "Jackass" came out and they started filming themselves jumping off their garages. In both cases, the results are similarly disastrous, so you might as well get a friend with a camera and become a viral internet sensation in the process.

Historically, the brake of choice for cyclocross has been the cantilever, mostly because of its power, mud clearance, and compatibility with road levers. To enter the world of cantilevers is to enter a nerd-tastic universe in which people endlessly discuss subjects such as mechanical advantage, modulation, straddle cable height, toe-in, high-profile versus low-profile, the dreaded and hair-raising "canti squeal," and of course its cousin, "fork shudder"—which, despite what it sounds like, is not what happens when you try to eat breakfast with a hangover.

All of this may sound scary, but the truth is that it's not too hard to get good performance out of the trusty cantilever. Nevertheless, as the sport grows, so do the braking options. Increasingly, in search of that magic combination of power and silence, some riders are turning to mini V-brakes. Others, emboldened by the lifting of the UCI ban, are turning to disc brakes.

The future of disc brakes in cyclocross is a raging topic in tech geek circles. Some point out that disc brakes are already pervasive in mountain biking, while others point out that, well, cyclocross is not mountain biking. But regardless of how you feel about discs, given the fact that the high-end set-up is a giant kludgy under-the-stem master cylinder, you probably don't need to worry about it for at least a few years.

Brakes aren't the only objects of endless out-geeking in cyclocross. The other object is tires, and if it's European and handmade, cyclocrossers want it. Serious racers hoard tires like the ladies in "Sex and the City" hoard shoes, and if you've never heard of either a Blahnik or a Dugast, all you need to know is that they're both only for special occasions and you can't afford either.

Their obsession is not unreasonable, for in cyclocross your tire choice often means the difference between making it through that off-camber section and sliding down the side of a muddy hill on your stomach to the delight of a drunken crowd. And tires are only part of the equation, since you also have to take into account tire pressure. Nothing is more crucial than tire pressure, which is why at a cyclocross race all you'll hear is people murmuring to each other, "whatpressureyourunning, whatpressureyourunning," like pot dealers hawking nickel bags at a Van Halen concert.

And don't be surprised if a complete stranger starts squeezing your tires just before the start to see whatpressureyourunning.

Of course, the top riders have entire tubular tire libraries, all glued up and ready to go on race day. The selection process is complicated, and a truly dedicated racer will arrive at the venue as the sun rises. Once there, he will determine the wind direction, check the soil's pH levels, and consult with a barometer before finally settling on the day's rubber. "This course calls for a file tread with side knobs. To my archives!" he or she will suddenly announce to nobody in particular. For you, though, a versatile clincher tire will probably suffice. Just ride it at a sensible pressure and with some finesse.

And if you're unsure, just squeeze the tire of the person next to you.

When you're doing it right, the top tube is perched on your shoulder, you've got one hand on the end of your bars to keep the front wheel from flopping around, and the bike is lying comfortably across your back. When you're doing it wrong, you look and feel like an old-timey bandit in the town square stockade and your handlebars keep whacking you in the face like angry villagers.

Remember when you learned to tie your shoes, and your mommy or daddy told you the little story about the bunny ears? Well, dismounting a cyclocross bike is a little bit like that in reverse—you're kind of untying yourself from the bicycle, except when you were little you didn't forget to unclip your left foot and end up underneath a muddy race bike.

This is another case of mastering the basics before you move on to the details. An experienced racer will run over the barriers like they weren't even there and without missing a step. One day that could be you, but in the meantime your only job is this: Get over the barriers! This includes both you and the bike. You will be tired, which means you will get sloppy, which means you will clip a toe on the barriers, which means you will execute a textbook faceplant. Or, you will be too tired to lift your bike, which means your back tire will hit the barrier, which means that the bike will suddenly buck into the air, fly forward, and take you with it. Of course, how high it goes depends on how much tire pressure you're running, which is yet another reason why proper tire pressure is so crucial in cyclocross.

Eventually you'll learn about all the fancy footwork that makes for a smooth and efficient remount, but until then the most important thing to remember about leaping quickly onto your bike is this: Aim for your inner thigh! In other words, as you land, the saddle should hit the inside of your leg, and then you should slide onto it like one of the Duke boys sliding across the hood of the General Lee. You should not land directly onto the genitals. Cyclocross is painful as it is without full-on shots to the 'nads.

In a cyclocross race, you're riding for only 45 minutes to an hour. Therefore, you won't be eating or drinking during the race—unless you accept a beer or bacon hand-up.

Needless to say, you should eat before your race. However, you should also exercise discretion. Lots of cyclocross races will offer a multitude of dining options: barbecue, Belgian waffles, clam chowder, and Mexican-Korean fusion are just some of the foods I've encountered at various races. Unfortunately, I've also eaten some of these things in large quantities before actually racing, which is not a very good idea. Let's just say that you should save the kimchi quesadilla until after the race, unless you want it to become a course feature.

Part of the reason 'cross is becoming so popular is that, of all the cycling disciplines, it's probably the best one for spectators. This is partially because the courses are small and offer multiple vantage points for watching the action, but it's mostly because fewer things are more satisfying than watching cold and miserable people flailing around in the mud. Add beer (available at many 'cross races) into the mix, and you have a perfect recipe for heckling the racers.

Heckling varies from region to region. On the East Coast, where people are more subdued, the heckling may be confined to some well-timed wisecracks. On the West Coast, the heckling is a bit more animated, and in Portland cyclocross heckling is a full-time salaried occupation and may or may not even involve a trombone.

Just remember that heckling is all in good fun. Further, cyclocross is so painful that the heckling actually feels good. Basically, it recalibrates your entire pain threshold, and you'll be able to withstand insults that would make even the most powerful roadie break down in heaving sobs.

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